Two Jokers and the 6 of Spades
by The Candle Flame
Summary: Courier Six sets out to find Suit. He expects to get revenge, answers and to lose caps gambling; he doesn't expect to meet the gorgeous Arcade Gannon. M!Courier/ArcadeGannon.
1. Prologue

**Summary:** Courier Six, known as Dan, sets off to get revenge on a man he knows only as Suit, who blew a hole in his head and had him buried alive. Along the way, he has to deal with the personality changes caused by the bullet and find a way to become not just a courier, but something more. Follower doctor/researcher Arcade Gannon could be the solution, the problem or just an ordinary man. Dan isn't sure.

**Note:** This will eventually be a M!Courier/ArcadeGannon story, but it'll be a while before Arcade even appears. I'm not sure how long this'll be, but I don't think it'll be short.

Please do let me know if I've made any errors, or if you have feedback for me in general. Here we go...

* * *

Prologue

Dan prided himself on always making his deliveries. The only time he came close to failing a delivery was in 2276, when The Divide was ripped apart. He'd been there himself, to make his delivery (some old tech the NCR brass thought would be useful to the community), but if he'd been a few days slower to leave, he'd have been caught up in the disaster too.

As it was, he'd heard a great rumbling in the distance behind him, but hadn't had a clue what it was. He found out months later, when he'd been ready to set out for home again. Dan'd promised last visit that he'd come back for a longer stay, sometime: he was always 'just passing through' on courier business. Trouble was, he never stopped working long enough to stay more than a couple of weeks at best. This time he was determined to stay a year at least, maybe even set up a shop.

He'd been in New Reno when he found out his home was gone, in one of the big casinos. His company had been surprised at his lack of knowledge.

"You mean you hadn't heard?" his sister-in-law asked. "I thought for sure you knew…" her voice trailed off at Dan's visible shock. Dan shook his head.

"Oh… I know you had friends there. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news," she said, wincing. She touched his shoulder lightly before reaching for her glass and downing the last of her scotch.

Dan shook his head. "Yeah, that's usually my job, isn't it?" he said, only half-joking.

Katie pursed her lips, staring into her empty glass. She didn't say anything.

"Oh shit, Katie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you about –"

Katie put down her glass and cut him off, her voice forcibly cheerful. "I'm not some delicate flower, Danny-boy. You should know that by now."

"It's Dan," he said half-heartedly. After all, she couldn't be too upset if she was using her nickname for him. If she was angry, she'd have used his real name. That's when he knew he was in the shit.

"Mhm," Katie replied distractedly. "Are you gonna finish that?" she asked, hand already inching towards his own glass.

Dan waved a hand. "Go for it," he said. "I'm not in the mood now."

Katie hummed thoughtfully and wasted no time in downing Dan's whiskey. She sighed, smacked her lips and sat back. Dan watched her.

"Where will you go then?" Katie asked. "Back to Junktown? I'm sure you're missed there." She looked at him knowingly and Dan fought a scowl.

"I'm sure I'm not," he muttered.

"Aw, hun, don't sulk!" Katie laughed. "You'll never catch anyone's eye like that!"

Dan shook his head. "Who says I'm looking?" he demanded, but the words sounded hollow even to himself. He preferred to travel alone, but it sure did get lonely sometimes. He had friends in many places, but the only family he had left was right here in New Reno.

Katie rolled Dan's empty glass between her hands, clearly deep in thought. "Somewhere new, then… How about San Fran?" she asked.

Dan shook his head again. "I was there – two years ago," he said.

Katie tried again. "The Hub? No – you've been there." She scowled and put down the second glass with a thunk. "Your trouble is you've been everywhere on the west coast!" she said, laughter in her eyes. "You'll just have to go somewhere you haven't been _recently_. You did a run out to Fort Aradesh out east a few years back, didn't you? Why don't you go that way again?"

Dan looked startled. "Katie – you're a genius!"

She giggled and looked pleased. "Oh, honey I know," she said, tossing her hair theatrically and laughing at herself. "So – Arizona then?"

"No, not Arizona." Dan said. At her puzzled expression he elaborated, "Caesar's Legion is getting stronger there. Fort Aradesh is now called Fort Abandon – Caesar defeated the NCR there some months ago."

It was Katie's turn to look shocked. "I hadn't heard," she said. "So it's true, then? Caesar's going to try for us, eventually, isn't he?"

"I don't know," Dan said, looking troubled. He studied his hands as he thought. "I don't reckon he's the sort to be easily satisfied though. He had soldiers and spies back home – in The Divide. Met a few of them."

"This far over?" Katie was horrified.

"Yeah," Dan said, and they sunk into silence.

Just when Dan was contemplating another drink after all, Katie spoke.

"So – where did you decide to go then? You made it sound as though I'd given you an idea."

"Oh yeah," Dan said, "you said I'd been everywhere on the west coast. And while not absolutely accurate, I have been around a bit."

They shared a smirk.

"I thought of Utah, actually. I hear New Canaan's fairly civilised, these days," he joked. "And my home's gone, once again, so I'm free to wander as I like," he finished, more bitterly than he meant to. "Guess it's a good thing I didn't have that second glass after all." He left the apology unspoken between them.

Katie shook her head. Nothing to forgive. "You could always stay with me, you know," she suggested, honestly meaning it but knowing he'd refuse. "You know your niece adores you."

Dan smiled. "That's because she knows I adore her!" he laughed.

"You do spoil her something dreadful," she teased. Her voice grew gentle. "You're an awful softy at heart, Dan. I just don't wanna see you hurt." At his pointed look she amended that statement with, "again."

"Don't worry about me," Dan said, voice light. "I'll just pop up to Utah for a bit – maybe come back via the New Vegas Strip, take a holiday or something."

"The Mojave, huh?" Katie asked, a knowing smile quirking about her lips. "Isn't Nevada stuck between Arizona and California? You just can't keep your nose clean, can ya?"

"You know me too well," Dan said. He smiled broadly. "I'll do some recon on the way back – just a quick look around, see what's what. I'll be back before you know it."

* * *

Dan meant to set out the next morning, but little Susie gave him the puppy-dog eyes and begged him to stay, and who was he to say no? He stayed with Susie and Katie for another three weeks before getting restless and joining a caravan out of town as a hired gun.

He did travel to Utah, even stayed in New Canaan a month or so, but didn't make it as far south as the New Vegas Strip. He'd been asked to run a package back out west and grabbed the excuse to see the girls again. But once he was back in California, where he had a reputation of someone who got shit done, he was in demand again.

One thing lead to another, as it always does, and the next four years passed almost without Dan noticing. He'd spent the time working for the Gun Runner's, as he had on and off over the years, and running odd jobs for the local NCR officials of where-ever he was at the time. He made sure to stop back and visit the girls as often as he could, though; Katie'd remarried to a rancher and Susie was growing up terrifyingly fast.

By the time he finally made the journey, it was 2281. He arrived from the south, by way of the Mojave Outpost, and kept on walking up the I-15, avoiding critters and raiders alike, until he reached Primm. There he signed on as a Courier, and as there were no jobs immediately available, went hunting. When he returned with Radscorpion Poison Glands for Ruby Nash to cook up, her husband Johnson had Dan's first delivery for the Mojave Express all ready and waiting to be taken straight up the I-15 to the New Vegas Strip.

He didn't waste time in Goodsprings, just walked right on through. At the cemetery though, Dan settled under what little shade from the scorching noon-day sun the water tower provided and had a nap. That was where Benny and the Great Khans caught up with him, travelling down from the north to intercept. It was easy enough to sneak up on Dan while he slept and knock him from sleep to unconsciousness just as he started to wake. Next thing Dan knew, he was tied up, on his knees and staring at a junkie, a tribal and a creep in a suit. _Sounds like the start of a joke,_ he realised.

He knew then that he was about to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. Katie and Susie'd never know what happened to him; he was gonna die alone in a cemetery of all places. _Guess that's karma for all that grave digging I did in Golgotha,_ Dan thought wildly, and then _don't just chuck down your cigarette butt, you moron, it'll light the whole place up!_

He didn't get the chance to say any of this out loud though; first because he couldn't seem to make his voice work and then because the bastard shot him.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When Dan began to regain awareness, everything was dark and quiet, and despite himself he felt a frisson of fear. _I can't see_, he thought, _did somebody bury me alive?_ He struggled to open his eyes and sit up.

Distantly, he heard the voice of an older man. "Easy, easy now…"

When he managed to open his eyes he immediately wished he hadn't. Too bright; everything was too bright. Early morning sun streamed through the window behind him.

"Give it a minute," the man said. "You've been out for days."

He stood and moved out of Dan's view for a moment. There was a tugging sound and then blissful half-darkness: curtains. Dan relaxed, staring around the room with a confused interest. _How did I get here?_

"You're awake," the man stated, sounding amazed. "How 'bout that?"

Dan nodded and tried to speak, but his throat was too parched. He winced and pressed a hand to his throat, struggling to sit up.

"Here, let me help." The other man murmured. "I'm Doc Mitchell, by the by." Once they had him upright and balanced, the Doc turned away to grab him a bottle of clean water from a work table behind him. Dan nodded his thanks and began to sip at it slowly, well aware of the dangers of too much, too soon.

He focussed on the water for a few minutes, giving himself time to get his bearings. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember how he'd ended up here. It came back a bit vaguely. He'd been walking – there'd been a package to deliver – then darkness – then… he'd regained consciousness in order to be shot and buried. He remembered _that _clearly enough. Dan winced, then realised he _had_ been buried alive, after all. At least he couldn't remember that part.

Doc Mitchell had been speaking, on and off, but Dan had kinda tuned him out. He refocused in time to catch a question: "Can you tell me your name?"

"It's – D - call me Dan. I answer to Dan," he said. His voice had wobbled a bit at the start, but he'd finished his answer steadily enough. He could already feel the strength returning to his limbs.

"If that's your name, that's your name," the Doc said bemusedly. He cleared his throat. "So, Dan – you've been out for some days now. Let's see if we can get you on your feet."

Dan nodded, and the Doc stood back just enough to give him room, but not so far that he couldn't grab him if he fell. Dan couldn't blame him. After all, the Doc'd must've put a lot of work into keeping him alive.

"Looking good so far," mused the Doc, and directed him over to a Vigor Tester on the other side of the room. Dan made his way across the space slowly, feeling somewhat awkward, as though he wasn't quite in control of his own body yet. He didn't need instructions for the Vigor Tester – they had them back west, too. It was easy enough. When he stepped back and it gave his reading, though, Dan got a shock.

He barely heard the Doc say that he was "solid as an oak" – he was too busy staring at the numbers. Clearly that bullet – or the Doc's rummaging to get it out – had done some rearranging after all.

Dan let the Doc lead him over to a couch in the next room, feeling baffled. The Doc asked him a few questions to "see if your dogs are still barking". Once Dan would have chuckled at the phrase, but now he barely registered it. The association questions were easy enough; the only one that caused a pang was 'mother' – Dan answered with 'regret' before he had time to think.

Next were some scaled questions – also easy enough. They finished off with some strange blobs: "a shadow in the doorframe; a ship at sea; a bearded man" before the Doc admitted that he didn't actually have any answers and handed the form over anyway. For some reason Dan found himself unreasonably annoyed at this, and had to remind himself that he owed the Doc, big time.

_My strengths are with Guns, Survival and Speech_, he wrote stubbornly, ignoring what the Vigor-Tester had implied. And _obviously_ survival was something Dan was good at: he'd just gotten killed and reborn, after all!

"Ain't like I expect to find you've got a family history of getting shot in the head!" Doc Mitchell burbled on, and Dan abruptly realised the other man was nervous. After all, he could be anyone – the Doc had taken a big risk letting him into his home.

His expression softened and he struggled to express what he was thinking. "Listen Doc – I appreciate it. You helping me, I mean. I really do. So thanks." It didn't come out quite how he'd meant it to, but at least he'd got the message across.

Doc Mitchell smiled, returned his belongings – they'd left his shotgun by the grave? Who did that? – and even handed over his own PipBoy, explaining how to work it as Dan pulled on his leathers. Dan'd seen one or two back west, but he'd never been close enough to have a good look.

And with a few last words of warning and help – "try not to get killed anymore" – Dan was out the door, squinting against the early morning sun.

* * *

Dan spent the morning investigating Goodsprings. He got some valuable information out of the locals, too. From Victor, a 'Securitron', he learned all about how he'd died and been brought back, as it were. Chet, at the general store, was happy to discuss the men who'd attacked Dan – the one in the suit Chet'd described as a New Vegas The Strip type, and Dan was inclined to believe him seeing as Chet'd actually been to the casinos on the Strip. He mentioned that Victor probably belonged to a Mr House, supposed Overseer of The Strip.

_Probably just a coincidence_, Dan thought, and dismissed it.

Dan traded some caps and his 9mm for a hat to shade his eyes and a shovel – after all, he might as well visit a few other graves when he visited his own. Not like the occupants would be needing anything – they weren't so likely to be getting up again. _Once a grave digger, always a grave digger,_ Dan thought amusedly.

First though Dan popped next door. At the Saloon, Easy Pete was happy to talk about the NCR – _not too popular around here,_ Dan realised. He agreed with the old Prospector; they could be mighty high-handed at times. But Dan was still an NCR citizen, and he believed in the ideals.

Easy Pete told him all about the Legion, too: Dan'd seen it for himself, from a distance, but the locals of Goodsprings were waiting for the Bull and the Bear to meet, and for the victor to take the land and people as spoils of war. It was an uncomfortable position to be in, and a dangerous one.

After Easy Pete, it was Sunny Smiles and her dog Cheyenne and getting back his old skills, a little. Then up to the water tower and graveyard to check out his own grave.

Dan shuddered at the sight of blood – his own blood, no less – splattered over the ground, and then went to collect the broc flower nearby. _Hang on a minute_, he thought. _I remember this. Wasn't that suit fellow standing over here? Ah – there._ Sure enough, several distinctive cigarette butts were scattered around, and Dan pocketed them, with the vague idea of using them to identify his enemy.

While he was there, he collected the junk lying around – bottles and tins mostly – and shot all the bloatflies. There was good meat on them, after all, and he could trade the trash at the general store, if he gathered enough of it. Happy to turn his back on his grave, Dan headed back down the hill, stopping at each letterbox on the way. Most of them contained loot Dan didn't feel guilty to take – he'd never steal from someone's house, but their letterbox… yeah, that was ok.

He trotted down to the Schoolhouse, then returned to Sunny Smiles to learn how to make Healing Powder. She left him to it and Dan made some Bloatfly Sliders before cooking up the Gecko meat he'd scored at the water troughs. Dan's stomach rumbled, surprising him. He squinted painfully at the sun before remembering and checking his Pipboy. 1507 – definitely time for something to eat. He stopped long enough to stuff down a fresh gecko steak, cooked at the campfire by the Goodsprings Source, before heading back to the town. In the Saloon, he met Trudy (and Joe Cobb) and learned all about the Powder Gangers. Just how many different groups were vying for the Mojave?

The next few hours were a blur – he met Ringo and agreed to help the man, but then found himself running all over town, trying to secure backup for the fight. The Doc, Sunny Smiles and Trudy were all easy work, but to convince Easy Pete to get his dynamite out, Dan had to study up on an Explosives mag. Chet at the General Store refused to be swayed no matter what.

It was quickly becoming Dan's biggest frustration. He knew what he wanted to say – it just didn't come out right. When trading, making a deal or convincing someone, Dan'd almost always come out on top. Now – he sighed – one of the local women eyed him like he'd attack her when he smiled her way and because of his spectacular failure with Chet, the townsfolk didn't have the armour they needed.

Almost as soon as he'd gotten the townfolk (minus Chet) onside, Sunny Smiles was telling him and Ringo that the fight was on. _I've not even been out of bed a full day yet_, he mused,_ and I'm already lobbing dynamite into gangers' faces_. Satisfyingly, that one stick of dynamite blew up two gangers, and they made short work of the rest.

* * *

That night, Dan slept in an abandoned trailer behind the General Store. He woke early, having slept early, and actually felt refreshed. He stretched luxuriously and allowed himself a scratch at his scruff of a beard and a large yawn before stumbling outside to relieve himself. That done, he dug in his pack for some instamash and another steak.

He headed for the general store after he'd eaten and was surprised to find it open, as it wasn't even seven yet. Chet greeted him cheerfully enough though, and he traded some of what he'd looted off the powder gangers the night before, the caps from Ringo chinking cheerfully in his pocket. As a last job before he left town, he ducked into the Saloon to fix the radio for Trudy. It was the work of only a few minutes, but he loved fixing things and wasn't about to say no to some caps, either.

Dan collected his pay from Trudy and left Goodsprings, going via the Goodsprings Source to rehydrate and fill a few water bottles for later. He headed for the distant rollercoaster and the nearer billboard, which turned out to be advertising the Vikki and Vance Casino. "See The Infamous Couple's Death Car!" the sign boasted. Dan shook his head. _Sounds a bit morbid to me_, he thought, amused despite himself.

He bagged a couple more geckos on his way down the road, and wondered if he'd get any answers in Primm about that chip he'd been carrying – or the bastard who took it from him.

"Where do you think you're going? Primm's off-limits!" An NCR soldier ran out in front of him, waving his arms. Dan halted in surprise.

"Oh?" he asked, trying for a polite tone, but sounding angry instead. He stifled a sigh.

The soldier shuffled backwards nervously. "Er - powder gangers have taken over. If you want more details, speak to, um, Lieutenant Hayes." He pointed helpfully.

Dan nodded and attempted a smile, but suspected it had come out as a grimace. The soldier looked terrified, for all that he was, well, a soldier – and more heavily armed than Dan, to boot. He decided to put him out of his misery and headed for the boss' tent, as it were.

Dan pushed aside the tent flap and immediately saw a woman in uniform pacing in front of him. "Lieutenant Hayes-" he started, but a distinctly male voice spoke from the shadows to his right.

"That's me," the Lieutenant answered crisply. "How can the NCR be of assistance, sir?"

Dan turned to look him full in the face and promptly went weak at the knees. Soldier boys weren't usually his type, but there's always gotta be an exception or two. He stuttered his way through the conversation, fully aware that he sounded like a fool, but to his relief and shame the other man was all cool professionalism and didn't so much as twitch.

_Of course_, Dan thought wryly, _it's entirely possible he's used to getting this reaction_. The thought was hardly reassuring.

And as for being dismissed with a cool "Sir", in that voice – Dan supposed he could imagine plenty of much more – exciting – scenarios where the Lieutenant addressed him as such. He headed distractedly down the I-15, imagining a few of them.

His pleasant daydream was rudely interrupted when he spotted a couple of powder gangers outside a building ahead, preparing to attack. He went wide around them, avoiding notice. He'd rather avoid conflict if he could – besides, he was low on ammo.

Behind him he heard bullets crack, and flinched a little. He looked around in time to see raiders streaming out of the building to attack. Well, they'd keep each other busy for a while – he'd just keep on walking.

By the time he made it to the NCR outpost, Dan was hungry, thirsty and sore – he'd avoided the obvious ambush site at the destroyed Nipton Road underpass and been attacked by five damn radscorpions. He hadn't seen them coming and had barely made it out of there with his hide, his shotgun hardly penetrating their tough shells. They were smaller than the ones out west, but their shells were tougher. _Probably due to the harshness of sun and sand_, he mused.

Sergeant Kilburn's assessment of the statue to commemorate the Ranger Unification Treaty – "Mostly good for shade" – made him crack a smile, though. If he thought that was bad, he obviously hadn't been to many places back west.

Still smiling, Dan made his way into HQ, stopping at the front desk to enquire about jobs and repairs and such-like. The soldier behind the desk was looking stressed and miserable, and Dan asked his name just to relax him a bit. Major Knight, though, seemed to think he was being flirted with, and proceeded to warn Dan against advertising his sexuality. "This isn't the NCR," he insisted, before asking Dan what category he could put him under on the form.

"Uh, citizen, I guess," Dan answered. He was a little wary, now, of answering 'Courier'. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave a trail behind him, as he obviously had last time. He didn't want a repeat of Goodsprings Cemetery.

* * *

Up at the Outpost, Dan managed to not only repair his gear, but got some work out of Ranger Jackson and the sniper Ghost, too. He'd even made a tentative friend in the moody drunk, Cass, up at the bar – after a rocky start.

He stayed the night in the barracks, and in the middle of the night received a visit from a mysterious stranger, one Malcolm Holmes, who quickly became less mysterious when Dan expressed annoyance at being followed. _These Star Bottle Caps must be fairly rare,_ Dan mused,_ I'll have to keep an eye out – and the caps hidden. No sense in asking for trouble, after all._

Healed up and more cheerful, Dan went back down the hill, stopping first at the Nipton Road Rest Stop, where he'd fought the radscorpions, to clear out the building. Apart from a locked gun case he couldn't open, he did find some loot including a mysterious note. It seemed the Mayor of Nipton had made some sort of deal with the Legion, and Dan wondered idly how it'd ended up there. He also wondered if this deal had anything to do with the smoke Ghost had asked him to check out.

Outside, he found a ghoul in a robe, and took a plasma pistol off the corpse. Then he headed for the underpass he'd so wisely avoided before. He crept to the edge, his shotgun ready. There were giant ants everywhere, and he shuddered a little. _Good thing I didn't walk straight into that!_ He thought grimly, ignoring that he'd gone round and nearly died by radscorpion instead.

The ants, however, were the work of moments, as the shotgun shells splattered them quite satisfactorily. Dan had the advantage of height; they had to go around to get to him, and he was able to pick them all off before any made it that close. He reloaded the shotgun before slinging it over his shoulder again, and trotted down to get some ant meat.

_Next stop: back to Primm!_ Dan decided. He would save Nipton for later – that smoke made him worry, too. He'd rather not get caught in the middle of something else, after all.

This time, Dan was determined to actually enter the town. He needed to find the Nash couple, or at least get into Mojave Express Office long enough to check for records about the package he'd been given. Dan touched the note tucked into his breast pocket absently.

As it was, Dan simply shot the two gangers in front of the Vikki and Vance Casino, and headed first into the Express. At the front door was another Courier; another who'd been on the same job, Dan realised as he read the note. This poor sucker had made his delivery and come all the way back to collect his reward before being shot.

Shaking his head, Dan went inside. Just what was the significance of these packages? It seemed like casino junk to him, but no-one killed over fluffy dice or a single chip – did they?

Inside, he found a Mojave Express drop-box and a familiar robot, in poor condition. His breath caught a moment, and he leaned over ED-E. No – not the same one. Just the same model. Dan prodded and poked at it for a bit before opening it up and peering at the wiring. Sure enough – the repairs were too complicated, at least without some replacement parts. Dan knew without checking his pack that he was short on scrap electronics as well as a sensor module. He had plenty of scrap metal though.

Leaving the bot for the time being, he snuck out the door and across into the casino. There he found the residents of the town, minus their dead Sheriff and Deputy-turned-hostage Beagle.

The most interesting thing he learned from Nash, though, was not that the Deputy might know where Suit'd gone – nor that there'd been six other couriers on this delivery: it was that the Courier before him cancelled because he apparently knew Dan, and maybe wanted him dead.

"I hope a storm from The Divide skins him alive," Johnson Nash fumed.


End file.
